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woken. Prince Charming had kissed Sleeping Beauty, and given her life. Alan the musician had fucked me, and given me life. And now Alan the ex was coming round again to ... to what? Fuck me? Was Jackie planning to give me life?
     
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Chapter Four
    he doorbell finally ringing, I raced through the hall, realizing that I was still T clutching my wet panties. Did Crystal wear panties? Wondering whether to send Alan the ex packing, I pondered on ringing Jackie and inviting her round to play with his dick. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea, I giggled inwardly, opening the door to Alan the ex. Alan the bastard.
     
    “Oh, it's you,” I breathed dismissively, tossing my panties beneath the hall table.
    “You don't seem very pleased to see me,” he murmured dejectedly, following me into the lounge.
    “Why should I be pleased to see you, Alan? I saw you this morning, and now you're here again.” I didn't mean to be rude to him. There again, perhaps I did.
    “I don't know. I just thought that, after ...”
    “What is it you want from me?”
    “Want? I don't want anything.”
    “I thought you might want coffee or another blowjob.”
    “Well, I suppose ...”
    “I'll fill the kettle,” I sighed, leaving the room.
     
    I don't know what it was that bugged me about Alan. I didn't want revenge. If anything, I was pleased to be rid of him. Had we still been together, he'd have been trying to force his cock into my mouth and I'd be shunning his advances. I didn't know what it was about myself. Something was getting to me, I knew. Something was 64
    bugging me. Perhaps it was that I'd wanted to have my romantic novel published and was now being forced to write erotic fiction. Forced? I was becoming desperate for money so, in effect, I was being forced. I was prostituting myself.
     
    Taking the coffee to the lounge, a blend of sperm and vaginal juice running down my inner thighs, I gazed at Alan the ex. Had he come round for another blowjob? More than likely. He’d come to visit the pornographess in the hope that she’s suck him off and swallow his spunk. Feeling decadent, a wicked plan coming to mind, I sat on the sofa and began talking about sex. Sex with Alan the musician, how he fucked me senseless, how made me come again and again.
     
    “I don't really want to know, Jade,” he finally sighed, plonking himself in the armchair.
    “Sorry, I was forgetting that you don't have a sex life at the moment.”
    “It's not that.”
    “Now that Angela’s thrown you out, you don't have a tight, juicy cunt to fuck and spunk.”
    “What?” he gasped, his face grimacing.
    “I didn't mean to say that,” I murmured, wondering where the crude words had come from.
    “God, you've changed.”
    “We're all changing, Alan. Changes bring about changes. So, you were saying?”
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    “I don't want to know what you and your boyfriend do in bed. You're so different, Jade. You're not the girl I once knew. What's happened to change you so much?”
    “You leaving me, that's what changed me. That's when I began to live.” Or had I died?
    “I wasn't that bad, was I?”
    “You seemed to think that you owned me. You were possessive and became insanely jealous if I chatted to other men. I felt restricted, suppressed, suffocated. If I went anywhere without you, you questioned me, gave me the third degree. Look at that hen night I went to. Who did you meet? Who were you talking to? How long were you there? Was there a male stripper? Did you talk to any men? Did you go straight home afterwards? It nearly drove me mad. I was sad when you left me, but also relieved. I wasn't going to tell you this but, you said that I was no good in bed and complained because I never sucked you off.”
    “I didn't mean ...”
    “Yes you fucking did, Alan.”
    “OK, OK. There's no need to get riled about it.”
    “Your obsession, your jealousy and continual suspicion and questioning ...
    That's what drove me to ... Shall I tell you what it drove me to?” I